


A Quiet Mind

by Winchester_of_the_lord



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Almost Love Confession, Crying Castiel (Supernatural), Dean is cute anyway, Depressed Castiel (Supernatural), Emotionally Hurt Castiel (Supernatural), First Kiss, Human Castiel (Supernatural), I'm Bad At Tagging, Idiots in Love, M/M, okay it's implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 17:06:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18815263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winchester_of_the_lord/pseuds/Winchester_of_the_lord
Summary: Castiel was sitting on the roof of the bunker and looked up at the starry night sky. He’d been sitting there for at least three or four hours now, maybe more.A single tear trickled down his cheek, across his jaw, over his chin, and dropped onto the back of his own hand. It’s such a secret place, the land of tears…





	A Quiet Mind

**Author's Note:**

> This is my entry for Destiel fresh hits for May - code word "quiet".
> 
> Find the challenge on [Tumblr](https://destielfreshhits.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Handicap score: -3

Castiel was sitting on the roof of the bunker and looked up at the starry night sky. He’d been sitting there for at least three or four hours now, maybe more. Who knew how much time had actually passed since he got up there.

A cool waft of air waved by every once in a while, leaving the skin on his arms prickling with goosebumps, sending painfully tingling shivers through his entire body.

He could hear the rustling of trees around him, the faint static noise from far away cars driving on the highway close to the bunker every now and then, crickets chittering in the distance. Yet, it felt as if he was the only being left on earth. Loneliness seeped into his very core.

The cold had numbed his legs to the point where he didn’t feel, didn’t even care about it anymore. Only his fingers were aching, throbbing against the breeze as he clenched his fists into his numb thighs.

A single tear trickled down his cheek, across his jaw, over his chin, and dropped onto the back of his own hand. It’s such a secret place, the land of tears…

He felt comfortable in the darkness. It’s soothing and painful at once, pulling him into the void of nothingness, emptiness, blackness, inside and out. Castiel was nothing surrounded by nothing. A tiny, irrelevant, unimportant speck in the middle of futility.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

That’s it. That’s what he was doing now. Every day. For the rest of his pathetic human lifetime. Breathing. _Existing._

Castiel looked up at the sky again, teeth clenched so hard it hurt, more acidic tears burning in his eyes, but not leaving them. It was pointless anyway.

He used to be an angel. An _actual_ angel. Wings and all. Closing his eyes, he tried to concentrate. Focus the way he had hundreds of thousands of times before, in a vain attempt to find at least a minuscule, barely there remnant of his grace somewhere inside of him. But it was futile, aimless. It was gone. And so was his last flicker of hope.

Irretrievably.

He used to be an angel. And now, now he was nothing.

Where he felt a connection to his Host, his _family,_ for the billions of years of his existence; where he heard their voices, sensed their presence, even across various planes of reality, through the veils of universes; where he listened to prayers, able to perceive _everything_ the world had to offer, now there was just...nothing. Nothing in a sea of nothingness. And Castiel in the midst of it.

He swallowed the suffocating lump in his throat and took another deep breath, let his head nod forward, burying his face in his hands. His fingers dug painfully into his own skin, scratching, tearing at it, but the numbness didn’t let him feel anything. Didn’t let him feel _real_ anymore. He wasn’t even sure if it really was the coldness, or if the last piece of life inside him had died eventually.

Another shudder rushed through his body. He was a shivering, trembling, empty vessel, shaken by biting cold and despair, slumped down into itself, infinitely small on the roof of the massive underground building beneath him. Why was he even still alive?

The deafening silence was disrupted by the creaking of a solid steel door behind him, followed by the thumping of heavy boots and a relieved, out of breath, “Thank God, Cas, here you are.”

Castiel didn’t react. Didn’t look up at the other man standing above him now, didn’t even bother wiping away his tears. He kept staring blankly in front of him, into the darkness, at nothing. An inward stare, roaming the mirrored void of the vast blackness around him.

“Dammit Cas, I’ve been looking _everywhere_ for you,” the man above him griped in between ragged pants, “I was worried, man! You- You can’t just run off and disappear for hours and- you can’t do that, Cas!” There was anger in his voice alongside deep concern.

Once again, Castiel didn’t react. Was still staring dead ahead, still silently trembling, still just breathing.

“Cas!”

He didn’t move. _Couldn’t_ move. Maybe he just didn’t try hard enough. He never did. That’s why everything he ever did, everything he ever touched, had always been destined to fail eventually.

“Cas?” This time the other man’s voice was a lot softer, timid almost. Anxious. The man crouched down next to Castiel, his next words a low hum in Cas’ ears, spoken with so much solicitude it all but hurt, “Cas... what’s wrong?”

He still couldn’t move. He still didn’t try hard enough.

Castiel’s vision was getting blurry again and another tear slowly burned its way across the cold skin of his face against his will. He shut his eyes as more tears welled up.

He felt a strong hand grab his shoulder, its warmth seeping through the thin fabric of his shirt, slowly fighting against the torpid numbness as the grip tightened. The hand shook his shoulder, apparently trying to evoke some kind of reaction from him, something, _anything._ But he was just tired. Numb. Empty.

“Dammit Cas, talk to me,” the man whispered. He sounded hopeless, almost desperate now. _“Please.”_

He heard the words, the commiseration in the other man’s voice. But he couldn’t even open his eyes. Let alone stop his silent tears. How was he supposed to talk to this kind-hearted man who cared so genuinely about him? How was he supposed to put in words what tore him apart, how everything inside him was just shattered pieces of the man- of the _angel_ he used to be, and how sorry he felt for being so goddamn useless? How was he supposed to apologize for being a burden to the brothers? How should he-

His train of thought broke off the second he felt the gentle but steady touch of a warm palm on his jaw, cupping his cheek and carefully turning his face to the side. He still didn’t dare open his eyes as a careful thumb stroked the wetness from his skin.

“Cas, look at me,” the man breathed.

Castiel gritted his teeth, swallowed thickly, took a deep breath and exhaled sharply through his nose. It wasn’t easy not to start sobbing, but he managed to stay quiet as he slowly opened his eyes. He kept his gaze aimed at the floor, but the hand lifted his chin, until Castiel couldn’t help but look into his favorite shade of green.

“God, you’re freezing cold.” The warm hands stopped touching his shoulder and his face, leaving him exposed to the night air, and even colder than before. It was only for a few short moments, however, as the other man wrapped a warmed jacket around Cas’ shoulders before he took his face into both hands this time. “Cas, whatever you’re thinking right now? It’s not true. It’s wrong, okay?”

One of the man’s thumbs wiped below Castiel’s eye again, “Cas, you can’t just sit here and freeze to death. You’re _shaking._ You’re not impervious to coldness anymore, you have to take care of yourself, okay? You’re not-”

“An angel anymore,” Cas interrupted him with a breathless growl, “I _know_ that, Dean.” He huffed through his nose once more, sniffed through his tears, “I know that I’m not- that I can’t-” He couldn’t find the words, didn’t know how to explain any of his feelings. He took another deep breath, “It’s so... _quiet_ in my head, Dean. It’s so quiet and I don’t- I’m... alone now, don’t you understand that?” He lowered his eyes and turned his face away from Dean, away from the warm touch of his hands. “I’m alone and I lost everything. I lost _myself._ I’m an empty shell. Not useful for you anymore.”

“Is that what this is about? Not being useful for me ‘n Sam? Goddammit, Cas-” Dean forced Cas to look at him again by taking his face back into his hands, a lot more vigorous and determined than the first time- “Stop limiting yourself to unimportant things! It was never about your angel powers. Yes, they were helpful at times, but it was never about that! And you’re not alone for fucks sake.”

Dean shut his eyes and clenched his jaw, “Cas, you’re not alone. I may not understand what it feels like to be cut off from the Host or whatever. Or what it’s like to be an angel. But I do know what it’s like to be human, to not hear prayers and voices all the time, and it’s not that bad, okay?” His eyes found Cas’ again, “A quiet mind is a _good_ thing, Cas, believe me. There’s worse things than being human. Stop feeling sorry for yourself and start to accept that you don’t need to be an angel to be useful or needed or-”

“I’m not _needed,_ Dean,” Castiel spoke up. He was almost yelling the words in Dean’s face. “I’m not needed,” he repeated quietly, barely louder than the cold wind rustling in the trees.

“But you _are,_ don’t you-” Dean shook his head, looked back at Cas. He licked over his bottom lip and stroked tenderly over Castiel’s cheekbone, “Cas, I _do_ need you. Not your combat skills, not angel radio, not your powers. I need _you!”_

Castiel huffed a humorless laugh, “What would _you_ need me for? I’m nothing but a burden.”

“You really think that, don’t you?”

“Because it is true.”

Dean just glowered at Cas, eyebrows knitted in a deep frown. “It’s not. But can we please go back inside and talk there, it’s really fucking cold out here.”

Castiel shuffled out of the jacket and handed it back to Dean, “Here.”

Dean didn’t take the jacket though. He didn’t stop glaring at Cas. “Why are you punishing yourself?”

“I’m not. Go back inside, Dean. You don’t need to be here.” Castiel pressed the jacket against Dean’s chest, trying to make him take it.

“You don’t need to be here either, Cas. Please come with me, you really need to warm up,” Dean said and pushed himself up from the cold floor of the roof, ignoring the jacket. Instead, he held a hand out for Cas.

His limbs were a dead, numb weight attached to his exhausted body, and refused move the way he wanted. If Dean hadn’t caught him after pulling him up, Castiel would’ve simply slumped down again.

But Dean didn’t let go of Cas afterwards. Even after several minutes passed, he was still holding onto Cas, arms tightly wrapped around him, the jacket uncomfortably pressed between them.

“I need you, Cas,” Dean breathed into Castiel’s ear. It was so quiet he almost didn’t hear it. “I need you, because-”

Castiel could hear Dean swallow thickly, but he didn’t continue. It felt good to be enveloped in the arms of the man he’d loved for so long he didn’t even remember how it felt to not be in love. But it was painful, too. He knew Dean would never feel the same way for him, would never see him as more than a brother.

That was the other reason why his life as a human bothered him so much. Having his grace as a barrier to shield his own feelings made it easier to blank out his love for Dean. Or at least blank out the pain of his love being unrequited. But now? Now he felt everything, felt the twinge in his heart, the nauseating twist in his stomach, the neverending ache of not being _whole._

The longer they were standing in the cold night, the more painful it felt to hug Dean. To experience how it could feel to actually _be_ with him was tormenting, because it’s easier to never know how good it could be, than to know and always miss it.

But he didn’t want to let go either. If he was already standing there, he might as well savor every moment of it.

And then Dean loosened his grip around Cas.

But he didn’t step away. Several seconds ticked by agonizingly slow.

“Cas, I-” Dean started hesitantly and looked into Cas’ eyes again, “I don’t know how to tell you- how to make you _believe_ that you’re so much more than an angel, or a simple human for that matter. You’re so much more than that, Cas. You’re- _everything.”_ He brought his hands up to Cas’ face again and whispered, “Why can’t you see that?”

“Dean-” What was he even going to say? _No? You’re terribly wrong? I’m nothing? I’m useless and I don’t deserve these words?_ He gulped the lump in his throat down, tried to get more space between himself and the man that made it hard to think straight when being that close, but Dean didn’t let him.

Green eyes full of sorrow and sympathy stared into Castiel’s soul, seemingly baring every single one of his thoughts and emotions as Dean opened his mouth again, “Why can’t you see that I-” he pressed his eyes shut- “how much you mean to me?”

Castiel felt sick. He knew, no matter how much he meant to Dean, he’d never _love_ him. Not the way Castiel loved Dean. He wanted to run, wanted to scream, wanted to dissolve into nothingness.

“I can’t lose you, Cas.”

He closed his eyes, couldn’t look at Dean anymore. At the pained expression in his eyes. It hurt too much.

Castiel’s legs were still numb up to the thighs, and the wind was still howling relentlessly in the treetops. Even though he couldn’t see it, he knew Dean must’ve been freezing too, shaking just as much as the trees around them and as Castiel himself. Why didn’t he just leave? Maybe- maybe if Cas just waited long enough, Dean would eventually go back inside. Maybe if he stood there long enough, he’d simply disappear one day. Eaten by the empty void in- and outside of him, forgotten by everyone Castiel ever cared about.

He’d just have to wait long enough.

“Did you hear that?” Dean asked through clenched teeth, voice trembling from the cold, or maybe his emotions, who knew?

Castiel blinked his eyes open. What should he have heard? He squinted at Dean, at least he attempted to, but his face was as numb as the rest of his body.

“I said I can’t lose you, Cas” Dean repeated, “Do you understand that? I _can’t lose you.”_ He looked as if he’d just realized something himself. He was still frowning when he cupped Cas’ jaw once more.

Before Castiel knew what was happening, he felt the warm press of soft lips against his own. It was a chaste, gentle touch and it didn’t last long enough. He didn’t know if that really happened. It could’ve been just his imagination playing tricks.

The two men stared at each other, sharing their breath for several heartbeats in silence, both slightly shivering.

“Cas, I’m-” Dean started and scrubbed a hand over his face- “No. You know what? I’m _not_ sorry.”

How could Dean say that? He didn’t love Cas, he didn’t want this, didn’t want them to be... _more._ He’d made that clear more than once.

Castiel swallowed dryly and tried to gather his thoughts, tried to find the words he was looking for, the words he wanted to tell Dean. But whatever words his mind came up with, they weren’t what he really needed to say.

So instead of looking for words he might never find, he raised the hand that wasn’t still holding Dean’s jacket to the other man’s face. He wanted this. And if this was the only moment he’d get, then he wanted to at least experience it for the fullest.

He couldn’t really feel the scruff under his palm, his fingers were far too numb by now, but what he could feel were Dean’s pliant lips as they met his own again.

He could also feel Dean’s hands on his neck and in his hair, sliding down to his waist to pull him closer. He could feel Dean’s chest against his own, his heart pounding in his ribcage. And he could feel Dean’s tongue licking at the seam of his lips.

He felt, as well as heard the deep hum vibrating through his entire body when Dean moaned contentedly into Castiel’s mouth, not knowing where Dean’s tongue ended and Cas’ begun.

And there it was, something changed, Castiel’s mind wasn’t empty, wasn’t _quiet_ anymore. Dean’s ragged breathing echoed through his head when they broke their kiss to get some air, his pleased moans filled the empty nothingness as their tongues met again.

When Castiel heard Dean breathe his name with a concerned undertone, he noticed the wetness on his own cheeks. He blinked his eyes open to see a worried, uneasy expression on Dean’s face.

“I-” Castiel traced a finger along Dean’s jaw, down to his shoulder and all the way to his hand that was gripping Cas’ waist to hold him close. He wrapped his fingers around Dean’s wrist and pulled his hand away from his body, causing Dean’s expression to falter for the brief moment it took Cas to intertwine their fingers. “I think I’d like to go back inside now,” he said, “It’s really cold out here and you’re not even wearing a jacket.”

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why, but apparently my brain thinks destielfreshhits means "hey, let's find the next way to hurt Cas", and I'm really sorry :S
> 
> please let me know what you think


End file.
